Desperate for help, needy post pleas online

The New Concord cattle farmer used to donate spare meat and homegrown vegetables to others, including a nearby group home for mentally disabled adults.

He and his wife, Tamara, were financially stable: They'd paid off their home in Muskingum County, about 70 miles east of Columbus, and put two children through college.

This summer, though, extreme fatigue from a longtime hepatitis C infection kept Mercier from his daily work, forcing the 46-year-old to sell at "a tremendous loss" his cattle, farm equipment and even the property's metal fence.

With forthcoming treatment and medications expected to cost $3,000 a month, Mercier -- who has no health insurance -- finds himself in a crisis.

"It's very humiliating," he said. "I never thought I would be in this position."

Last month on the Columbus and Zanesville editions of craigslist, a no-cost, online-classifieds Web site, and on the New Jersey-based Wishuponahero.com, he pleaded for help of any kind -- a few dollars, a prayer,

a meal.

I feel pretty bad writing all of this to the world, but I just don't know where to turn now, I am willing to return help to someone else in need as soon as I'm able.

Somewhere in the digital ether, people noticed.

A woman drove from Columbus to take the Merciers grocery shopping. Another sent a care package filled with toiletries. Someone else mailed a card with $2 enclosed. A jeweler sent Mrs. Mercier a modest costume ring, simply as a pick-me-up.

Others have donated several hundred dollars through PayPal, which facilitates online money transfers, to help the Merciers pay utility bills and propane costs. It's barely a dent, but it's deeply appreciated.

"The people who have reached out with what little they have," Mr. Mercier said, "is a blessing."

Other central Ohioans, too, are using the Web to seek a helping hand.

Many go online because they are frustrated with traditional methods of assistance, or because they're unable to procure it. Or maybe they're too ashamed to resort to panhandling.

"I've had to go through

the entire social-service wringer," said Audra Blackburn, 40, who posted requests on craigslist twice this month seeking rides to doctor's appointments and a pharmacy.

Her truck was stolen recently while she was hospitalized for renal failure.

"I don't know how (agencies) do their rides," said the Short North resident, whose health and complicated personal life prompted her to leave a paralegal job in Dublin. "It's very hard up here to figure that out."

Blackburn received four replies but didn't have to act on any after friends came through for her.

Those in similar straits recognize the risk in such Web-based solicitations -- sites such as craigslist are rife with faceless con artists and scams -- but they trust that their heartbreakingly simple requests can be fulfilled.

"You've got to do what you got to do," said Wyatt Kohl, who recently posted a plea for space heaters for his drafty, rented home near Nationwide Children's Hospital.

"It's very embarrassing, but you have no choice."

Kohl, 35, who once earned $85,000 a year through a flooring business, hasn't worked for two years because of a back injury. His wife, battling a brain tumor, finds sporadic work at a warehouse.

The family is about $2,000 behind on its natural-gas bill. They have four children.

Seeing the request, a Columbus-area woman donated two small heaters to the family -- "nothing much, but I'm thankful," said Kohl, who plans to re-post the solicitation.

Some of the others seeking help in cyberspace have specific needs, too.

One single mother, who was keeping her food on ice, sought a working refrigerator. Another, running low on food stamps, offered to accept anything from locals cleaning out cabinets or freezers. A third sought a clean, twin-size mattress for a child.

Meanwhile, national sites such as CyberBeg.com and begslist.blogspot.com have sprung up, each containing a litany of similar appeals.

Wikipedia now has an entry titled "Internet begging," which describes the practice as "the clear advantage to street panhandling, in that it can be practiced with relative anonymity, thereby eliminating or reducing the shame and disgrace of begging in public."

That's a concern to Marilee Chinnici-Zuercher, president of Firstlink, a referral agency that directs people to social services.

"Any person can put anything" on craigslist, she noted. "They're not verified. There's no confirmation that the information is correct."

Firstlink, which can be accessed locally by dialing 211, helps connect those in need to a network of 1,400 Franklin County agencies.

Likewise, there is no way to know the intent or reputation of an Internet stranger offering aid, said Alice Hohl, spokeswoman for the local Salvation Army.

She encouraged those in need -- and those who want to help -- to work with an established organization.

"Our services are designed to help people to address the root problem to provide the tools to access resources," Hohl said.

Yet, some people still find themselves stuck, willing to explore any means necessary.

Through his online posting, Wayne Mercier found good Samaritans in South Side residents Ada Solis and her mother, Modesta.

The two recently met the Merciers at a Kroger store

in Newark.

Years ago, Solis and her mom were homeless. That still resonates with Ada, now 18 and a junior at Focus Learning Academy, a charter school.

Their combined gift: $130 for groceries.

"You give back, and you get back," Ada said, "even if it's not from the same person."

kjoy@dispatch.com

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